Nothing is Forever
by Zekkers
Summary: Totally origninal characters far into the future- a brief glimpse at what might happen to Immortal society if they were still hanging around...


Nothing is Forever  
By Zekkers  
zekkers@juno.com  
March 2001  
  
Disclaimer: Idea not mine, okay?  
Summery: Totally original characters set in the Highlander Universe. This is a look at what might happen far into the future if Immortals were still hanging around...  
  
  
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Two men were standing in an elevator, waiting as it plummeted downwards. "It's strange, you know? In all my life, one thing that never changed is the prisons." The man speaking was wearing a long loose overcoat atop his skin-tight bodysuit. Both were black, and dark goggles covered his eyes. "Fashions, technology, customs- but not the prisons."  
  
The man next to him nodded. He was wearing a light blue bodysuit with a belt, a small device hanging off of it. His goggles were standard light gray. "You don't say." His hair was gray, and he tended towards being over-weight, but he looked fit.  
  
"Yeah. I mean- I was born before the damn automobile was invented. I remember going to town on a horse, for crying out loud. And now we've got colonies circling other planets, around other stars than just good 'ol Sol. But we still lock criminals up behind bars."  
  
"It's cheaper than the sim-environments." The man replied.  
  
The elevator stopped, and the two men got out. They walked forward, straight to the receptionist desk. The receptionist seated there was a young man, also wearing a light blue bodysuit.  
  
The older man spoke first. "Hello Jerry, I brought the Immortal."  
  
"Thanks Sam." He held up a clipboard and stylus. "He needs to sign in here, and check in that coat. He can keep his weapon- but we need to do a complete identification check. The equipment is in the next room."  
  
The man in black stepped forward, taking the computerized clipboard to sign his name and leave his thumbprint. "Like I said, some things haven't changed."  
  
Sam snorted. "I remember my history- Immortals have been living underground until last century. This never would have happened until recently."  
  
The man in black gave a small smile. "Actually, it wouldn't be happening now, if we could live any other way. Changing technology made us come forward."  
  
The receptionist and the guard chuckled. "You mean, you kept getting caught."  
  
"Well, yes. That's what I said- increased levels of security for identification methods made it impossible to fake our deaths and be 'reborn' as normal citizens. It became impossible to hide anymore."   
  
The Immortal was lead through doors into another room. A group of light blue bodysuited men and women tested his DNA, scanned his retinal pattern, and tested is ident chip- the microchip all citizens had implanted on the back of the skull, just above the neck.  
  
"Immortal Jennings, everything appears to check out. Now, if you'll come this way, we'll escort you to the criminal."   
  
The man in black nodded, handing his cloak to another guard, revealing the long sword strapped to his back.  
  
They walked through long gray corridors, the lead guard chatting away. "At first we thought it was a regular identity thief- kill a someone who looks like you, steal the ident chip, and hack the computers to mask the DNA alteration. But when we caught him, it was discovered that he was an underground Immortal. So, we called the registry- and your name was chosen this time."  
  
"Lucky me."  
  
"Yes, well. You understand the government's problem with such an individual. He doesn't live by the law- he shows no regret of his actions, his personality traits are set, and he would kill again if ever let loose. Investigation revealed that he has taken many lives- both Immortal and mortal, and he doesn't follow the rules of your Game. He's a headhunter, I believe it's called. He cannot be reformed. And if we chose to keep him incarcerated- he would literally be in here forever."  
  
"I know the argument. I agree with it. Let's just get this over with."  
  
"Yes, here he is."  
  
Jennings stepped into the room alone, eyes on the bright red suited man strapped to a chair in the center of the room. The door shut behind him. "Hello." He said, ignoring the buzz in his head.  
  
The man looked up. "Oh look, my executioner. Another traitor."  
  
"I'm just following the law."  
  
"The law? What law? We're above their laws- those puny humans who will live and age and die. We live for the Game, not their laws."  
  
"Obeying the law does not preclude the Game. I have dueled- and I am a citizen. You know that they have made exceptions for our Game. We can kill each other, just not the morals."  
  
"You're a fool if you believe they will always allow that."  
  
"You're a fool to keep living in the past. Nothing is forever. We lost our freedom to hide, and now we live among mortals again- is it wrong? It doesn't interfere with the Game."  
  
"Yes, it does. This interferes with the Game, me tied to this chair. It's against the rules. But you've sold yourself out, just to get a 'free head'. To execute ones like me, who won't let themselves be kept under the government's thumb."  
  
"I don't agree. But I am being rude," Jennings gave a small smile. "To keep you hanging like this. Do you wish to be awake, or shall I ask them to sedate you?"  
  
"I wish to see my death."  
  
"Very well." And Jennings took his blade in his hand, and swung it wide. The head barely had time to bounce before the lightening started.  
  
  



End file.
